Cui Jian insists on the heaviest side of the rock spirit, and this cross chosen by himself is also destined to hinder his flight.
Text / Wu Zeyuan
Edited by / Yang Jingru
The lightness and freedom of "flying", the clumsiness of "dog" and the slightly self-deprecating teasing; the heart yearns for the sky, but the neck is firmly tied by the collar rope. Who can say clearly whether this is the state of mind of Cui Jian, who released his seventh album "Flying Dogs" before the 60-year-old mark?
At least in this new creation of rock veterans, self-contradiction and struggle are the clearest melodies throughout.
Side A: Cocooning yourself
After a six-year absence, Cui Jian returned again. Compared with the previous work "Light Freeze", which often reached seven or eight minutes in length, the total length of the eight songs of "Flying Dog" is only 37 minutes, but the sound is not easy.
In the second track "The B Side of Time", which closely follows the title song, the guitar piece with a strong blues flavor, accompanied by a hoarse but emotionally relaxed saxophone, and a drum beat that draws people to swing their hips, make you feel like you are in the studio of the Rolling Stones in the early 1970s, or in a tavern in the New Orleans area with the smell of alcohol, sweat and hormones.
But as soon as Old Cui's voice went online, the atmosphere of the song immediately changed. Whether it's the falsetto at the beginning or the roar of the chorus, Cui Jian's singing voice is different from the band's playing style, too tight, too much like proving something to some imaginary friend or enemy.
Cui Jian has been playing jazz for many years with his band members (saxophonist Liu Yuan, guitarist Eddie, bassist Liu Yue and drummer Lu Chao). He said that the partners "look down on my rock and roll play", although it is just a joke, but there is also a certain truth hidden in it. After absorbing jazz nutrients for many years, Lao Cui still seems to have failed to truly digest the essence of jazz - it does not mandate ideology, does not mandate the output of ideas. What it asks the listener for is only a complete devotion in the physical and mental level, and once this is done, the instrument that vibrates in the hands or mouth of the musician and the body that is also vibrating in the listener can be combined into one.
At the end of the day, Choi is still a rock musician. He is not very keen on floating names such as "the godfather of rock and roll", but the narrow connotations associated with the word "rock" and the sense of responsibility and mission given to him by the spirit of the 80s are still a burden that he cannot and may not want to unload. So we see that throughout the album of "Flying Dogs", Cui Jian is still criticizing and poking at the status quo as he did decades ago. "Thunderous ridicule", "fresh meat rolling on the ground"... These images, whether obscure or direct, are trying to make Flying Dog a kaleidoscope of perspective on the present.
Even so, Lao Cui's attempts were largely ineffective. After all, the objects he was trying to summon were either busy running for their lives or lying flat, and few were willing to bother to decipher the mirage-like images he had carefully concocted. So when he roared to the universe like a flying dog, and issued invitations to the world such as "Let's fall together" and "Let's destroy each other", he may not be able to get an echo. The era of rock and roll changing the world has long passed, and the legends who are similar to Cui Jian's historical position in China either look to a broader dimension, or create more and more to the heart, or have exiled themselves as early as adolescence. Cui Jian insists on the heaviest side of the rock spirit, and this cross chosen by himself is also destined to hinder his flight.
Side B: Trapped beasts
Being trapped in an unsolvable dilemma does not require death, but the fatal thing is to have a full consciousness of this dilemma. Cui Jian obviously has a clear understanding of the changes and even disappearances of the battlefield, just as he has enough awareness of the decline of his physical strength and hormones.
Therefore, although in "The B Side of Time", he shouted like a stunned head that "Lao Tzu has not changed at all", although in "Half the Sky" is still the northern grandfather who uses drums and high notes to stir up beautiful people, in more repertoire, Cui Jian expresses the regret of the veteran's withering, and the loneliness of having more than enough but not enough strength. He sometimes exudes the cowardice of "wanting to roar but not roaring, and the flesh is still not enough" ("The Left-behind"), and sometimes laments that he can no longer be as crazy as when he was young: "A cow walks on the road of a rabbit... The wild gets lost in warmth" (Rabbit Cow). As for the facelessness of the former frontier, it is even more confusing to old Cui, who has a fierce tiger in his heart, singing "Yesterday's pursuit is no longer clear", singing "Painting the earth as a prison" and "painting the sky as a prison", singing "My original intention is to the end, there is no purpose" ("Continue"). The martyr was still in his twilight years, and his heart was still strong, but he did not expect that the old enemy who had been fighting against him for many years had long since become a windmill. No one can be changed by the times.
So, where to go in the great waves of changing times? The answer given by Lao Cui is very clear, he chooses to "stay" and choose "continue", even if it makes him seem ridiculous and inappropriate. This struggle with himself does seem tangled and twisted at times, and it makes Lao Cui's voice often compete with the accompaniment of the band, so that the song loses a lot of energy in internal friction. But Old Cui's self-struggle also brought those most moving moments to the entire album. They all come from when Old Cui accepts his absurdity, no longer tries to win the war, but is willing to be part of the whole magnificent picture.
When Lao Cui shouted his perseverance in "The Left behind", he seemed to understand the principle that if the boat did not advance against the current, it would retreat. So with his roar, the trumpet sounded loud near the end of the song, strongly but gently bringing the song back to the past, back to the era when the five-pointed star on the old Cui hat was shining.
When Lao Cui suddenly raised the tone by an octave in "Continue", the sound wall composed of guitar and female chorus drowned out his howl like the sea, corresponding to the picture of "the sky is pressed down, testing my endurance" in the lyrics. Like "A Red Cloth," this ambiguous track portrays a "me" who carries a heavy load and a "you" whose weapons are gentle and loving. And Cui Jian no longer wants to win the competition, and even no longer knows who he is fighting. He began to allow himself to be defeated and submerged, but he did not allow himself to flee into the wilderness. If you are already unable to walk against the sky, then rolling in the mud like a greyhound is not an undesirable destination for an old soldier.